


Dream is Suffering (Dream Angst Oneshots)

by Dream_Was_Found



Series: Angst Oneshots [5]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Author is a Clay | Dream Apologist (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream Angst (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream-centric (Video Blogging RPF), Dissociation, Disturbing Themes, Gen, Hurt No Comfort, Immortal Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Panic Attacks, Prison, Prisoner Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Sad Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, Suicide, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Villain Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-07
Updated: 2021-02-16
Packaged: 2021-03-12 12:27:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29260461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dream_Was_Found/pseuds/Dream_Was_Found
Summary: A collection of different Dream AUs that just make Dream suffer, happy endings and comfort are rare in this work. Please make sure to read the trigger warnings before getting into anything.
Series: Angst Oneshots [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1911994
Comments: 29
Kudos: 514





	1. Failed Villain

**Author's Note:**

> **AUTHOR'S NOTE**  
> The characters in this work do not reflect the actual, real lives of the real people used. Only their online, fictional personas are used; a reminder that this whole work and scenarios used are also fictional. Do not push these works of fiction onto the real people and if any of the people used in this fanfic express discomfort then I will take down this work immediately.  
> Also yes, I am aware that canon Dream is a complete, manipulative asshole. The Dream in my works is not the same, hence why they are considered AUs.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dream thought he was doing well at playing the villain, the source of everyone's hate, but why is everyone still fighting?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: panic attack, dissociation, self-harm (from lava), death (but with reviving)
> 
> \---
> 
> The bolded text is supposed to represent the Minecraft chat, bolded text with quotation marks are player sent messages.

Dream thought the obsidian was beautiful, the midnight colored block reminded him of the void, a place where he could finally be free. He was laying on his side and the jagged edges of the obsidian slightly cut into his face but he didn’t care. Because he wasn’t supposed to care about anything anymore, right? That was the character he set for himself, that was the fate he chose.

He had no sense of time, even with that damn clock on the wall he still couldn’t tell. The ticking of the clock at first annoyed the hell out of him, but now it had faded into white noise. And it only showed if it was daytime or nighttime, which didn’t mean anything for Dream, how could he when he was stuck in prison? The last glimpse of the outside world he had seen was when he was first thrown into the vault. How long has it been? Weeks? Months? Maybe even years? It didn’t matter anyways when no one even seemed to care about him, he could rot in prison for all they cared.

Dream closed his eyes, shutting them from the harsh glow of the flowing lava blocking off the entrance. It seemed as if that was the only thing he could do nowadays, he had exhausted every activity possible in his cell already, well, he could still do them but the entertainment had been drained from them. He already filled up all the books in the chest, every page was packed with writing, some filled with nonsense whilst some entailed pleasant memories he had shared with his former friends. It reminded him that there was good in the world, that there was a time in which he could be regarded as a close friend by others. 

The chest that held all the books no longer had a lid, it had fallen off long ago from its hinges from how much Dream had continuously opened and closed it. The lectern had images carved onto its surface, engraved by a broken shard from his porcelain mask that had been shattered for as long as he could remember. If no one was going to see him, there was no need to keep his mask on, so he broke it. He broke it and kept the shards, finding that they were useful for many things. 

He used a shard to carve the raw potatoes that Sam dropped to him every day; the first few days Sam dropped them off by hand before he installed the automatic dispenser. He made sculptures of items that everyone else on the SMP held close to their hearts, discs, pets, weapons, even a small figure of Skeppy were all carved by hand and were laid all in a row against the wall. The rotting smell of potatoes was harsh and putrid, eventually Dream couldn’t stand the smell so he threw them in the lava. It gave him something to do though, carving more figures each time he needed a replacement.

It worried Sam at first, when Dream had died of starvation out of all things, so he visited the cell to check if the automatic potato dispenser was broken. It was one of the few times Dream saw another human being and he was ecstatic. It was then that Dream realized he could get Sam to visit his cell like this, so he kept on breaking things in his cell, asking for Sam to replace his items just so he could see a glimpse of a person.

It didn’t take Sam long to realize what Dream’s intentions were, so he eventually told Dream that he wouldn’t get anymore replacements and that the ones he was giving him now were the last of them. Dream felt more numb than he ever did before after that.

His definition of “fun” had been warped, altered by the countless amounts of nights and days he had spent in the godforsaken prison. Spinning the clock in his cell was fun for a while until he got bored of it. Dream found that the most fun came with the searing pain of lava melting his flesh off of his bones; he’d spend hours dipping his arms into the lava, but lately he had trouble even feeling the once excruciating pain. 

“Dream…” His eyes snapped open at the unknown voice, only having a hint of familiarity. Dull green met blue when he locked eyes with the blonde man in front of him. The man was clad in black and green and had a strange green and white striped hat on top of his head. 

Dream’s gaze lowered, not wanting to see the pitiful expression on the stranger’s face. Apparently Sam had let in another visitor and Dream must’ve tuned him out because he had no recollection of Sam telling him that someone would be arriving. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had visited him, he could faintly remember Tommy coming to see him in the very first days of his imprisonment but that was long ago. Dream knew that he should’ve been excited to see another human being after so long, but he didn’t have the energy to do anything anymore. So he just hugged his knees into himself as he huddled the back wall of the cell, shrinking away from the stranger.

“Dream.” The stranger sighed. “Do you know who I am?”

Dream shook his head.

“The name’s Phil.” Dream shifts uncomfortably, he doesn’t know who this man is, the name Phil is familiar at best. “Do you...know how long it’s been?”

Another shake. 

“A year.” Dream stiffened at the word, it had been a  _ year  _ since he had seen another face besides his own in the reflection of the water in the cauldron. It had been a  _ year  _ since he had contact with the outside world, but he didn’t want to go outside. He was supposed to stay in here, right? But there was a part of him that wanted to know how everyone else was without him because he had a feeling that he was  _ supposed  _ to care. He had a feeling that he had a goal before being thrown into his own prison, there was something that he was supposed to remember and he had forgotten.

_ I can’t forget, I can’t forget this. I need to remember. _

* * *

There was a reason, a reason to everything he did and everything he fucked up. It was a reason he could share with no one, a burden to take on by himself. Quackity almost hit the nail on the head during the argument they had in Mexcian L’Manberg after he had dethroned George, he had pointed out how Dream seemed to include himself into every single conflict on the server and that everything only escalated because of him. And Quackity was right with that, Dream did make it his goal to involve himself with every situation, no matter how bad it got or how much worse he made them. 

Dream had realized the flaws of his server since its creation when disputes began to occur, things were no longer peaceful when Tommy turned Sapnap against him. Things had started to turn sour when Dream realized that sides were starting to form and relationships were beginning to break. He couldn’t let that happen, the whole point of the server was for everyone to be like a big family, for everyone to have fun with each other and not start wars over meaningless things. That was his intention when he created the server but it was lost in a sea of war and battles. 

So he set out to be the villain of the server, a common enemy in the eyes of everyone. It was something he could accomplish if he involved himself in every conflict and play the bad guy in them, to make everyone hate him. If everyone focused all their hate onto him, they wouldn’t fight within themselves and would unite with the goal of defeating a tyrant. His downfall could bring everyone together.

“There’s nothing quite like the feeling of euphoria when you’re finally able to overthrow the unjust tyrant that has abused his powers for far too long” was a saying that Dream had used many times to convince himself to continue the path he had taken. Dream could remember the joy on everyone’s faces when he was finally defeated and chained up. It was a good memory, good because he saw that everyone had united together against him, what he had wanted since the very beginning. He could remember how relieved he felt when he saw that Punz brought everyone through the portal to aide Tommy and Tubbo, his plan had worked. 

When Dream said that he admired Tommy, he said it was because of the attachment that the kid had brought to the server but it was more than just that. He knew of Tommy’s reputation from the past, how the kid started wars on another server called SMP Earth and became the antagonist there. He was in awe at how easily the 16 year old could turn everyone against him and become the villain of the story and wished he could do the same. But he couldn’t, because he was Dream and he was supposed to be manipulative and sly rather than brash and annoying. He didn’t get to use his age as an excuse.

He couldn’t use anything as an excuse, every word that came out of his mouth sounded like a lie and there was nothing he could do about it. Because Dream had spent his entire life surrounding a lie, how could anyone ever believe him now?

But it didn’t matter! Everyone in the end banded together against him and threw him in the prison he commissioned himself. Everything went to plan and that was all that mattered. His problems were just a small sacrifice in the grand scheme of things, it was for the better good. He brought happiness. He did it.

* * *

“You're still there, mate?”

Dream’s head snaps upwards to see the blonde man staring straight at him and regrets looking into his eyes. The other man’s gaze is cold and judging, or at least that’s what Dream thinks it is. He hasn’t seen another face besides his own for a goddamn year, he doesn’t know what those lapis-colored eyes are supposed to convey. Dream can’t remember the last time he’d seen a sincere or even happy expression, he had never once seen it in the cauldron.

He opens his mouth to say something back but all that comes out is a raspy croak and his throat feels too dry to make any other noise. Dream bites his lip harshly, frustrated that he can’t even utter the words he wants to say. What did he want to say? He hadn’t really thought of a response yet and it reminds him of how much of a fool he is. 

“Can you not talk?” Dream slowly nods. “You maybe have anything that you can write on? Maybe that’ll work.” Dream is about to point a finger towards his chest full of books but then remembers that there is no more blank space to write on in any of the books. He shakes his head again and curses at himself, this “Phil” person was probably annoyed with him and his inability to have even a simple conversation. 

“That’s okay, do you have your comm-” Phil cuts himself off. “Sorry, that was a stupid question. You can borrow mine to type out what you wanna say.” Oh right, his communicator was stripped from his wrist on day one, depriving him of any outside contact. Dream watches and hesitantly takes the communicator that Phil was handing over. He frowned, how could a stranger trust him so much as to borrow such an object? Did Phil know what he’d done? Dream gingerly holds the tech in his hands, looking up to Phil and silently asking him to initiate the conversation.

“How have you been doing? It’s a stupid question to ask, I know, but you need to talk to someone, mate.” Dream opens up the chat to reply and is met with previous messages, messages that he wasn’t supposed to see. But he did see them and his heart dropped. They weren’t just any message, they were  _ death  _ messages between many of the names he could barely recognize. 

_ Burned, slain, shot, escape escape EscapeESCAPE. NONONO WHY ARE THEY DYING I DID EVERYTHING RIGHT.  _ Dream’s throat was tight and he felt as if he were choking with each message that scrolled by.  _ There was supposed to be peace. _

“There’s a war going on right now,” Phil sighed. “Between Snowchester and the Greater SMP, for what purpose? I don’t know and frankly I don’t really care. Techno, Ranboo and I are doing just fine whilst everyone else just engages in pointless battles.”

**“How many wars has there been in this past year?”**

“I don’t know, I don’t really keep track.”

**“How many people have been hurt? Is anyone dead?”**

“Probably, but they’re most likely using the book you gave them, right? Being able to be brought back to life changed everything, everyone started to get more reckless just because they have a safety net.” 

Dream was about to ask another question with shaky hands until he saw one message in particular that stood out among all the others.

**GeorgeNotFound was burnt to a crisp whilst fighting Sapnap**

A noise besides a raspy croak finally managed to escape his mouth in the form of a pathetic cry as his body shook. Dream dropped the communicator on the floor before scrambling to the corner of his cell where he curled up whilst holding his head in his hands. He was sobbing, sobbing so hard that it made his face numb and he could no longer feel the wet tears pouring down his face. Everything seemed to crash down upon him at that moment, all the frustrations and pain he had been holding for a year were being let out. It was overwhelming and he began to grip his hair even harder and pull at it as he screamed.

It was a mixture of things that was tearing Dream apart. It was the first time he had seen a glimpse of the outside world, only to be met with the deaths of all the people he swore to protect. But it was the names of his two former best friends that caused his emotions that he supposedly had to spill out from behind the broken dam in his head. People who were the best of friends were  _ killing  _ each other, the world had gone to shit. 

Phil was startled at the sudden laugh that erupted from the broken boy he was trying to comfort in the corner. Dream didn’t notice, he was too busy screaming, clawing at his face and crying to acknowledge the other presence inside the confines of his cell.

_ I failed.  _ Dream let out a painful laugh that tore at his vocal cords that were already too damaged to function.  _ I was supposed to be the villain of this story, the big bad guy that everyone could join together and lock away in this terrible prison. Why...WHY HAS NOTHING CHANGED. I had a duty to do and I fucked it all up like I do with everything else in my life. They were supposed to be happy, so why are they fucking killing each other? Why are they throwing away their lives and ruining friendships? What is going on? They were supposed to be happy, united, a big family. Everything should’ve gone to plan, so WHY DID IT NOT? HATE ME. BLAME ME. HURT AND FUCKING KILL ME. Just...stop fighting. I...it was supposed to be me. I’m the villain, I’ve always been.  _

_ All...all my efforts have been tossed down the drain, everything I did was for nothing. The year...years even after all this time...were useless. It didn’t work, I’m such a failure and do they even know I exist? Because all this hate should be targeted at me, so what went wrong? I fucked up, I’m sorry. I’m really fucking sorry I’m a worthless piece of shit. All I did was cause more pain on my friends...I don’t even have the rights to call them that. I’m not their friend, I’m a mess.  _

_ I’m sorry everyone. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why is Phil in this story? Simply because I needed someone that hardly interacted with Dream, but can still somewhat sympathize with him.


	2. Permutation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dream doesn't have anything to do in prison anymore, he had exhausted every source of entertainment. Maybe he just has to create his own then.
> 
> \---
> 
> Permutation: a mathematical technique that determines the number of possible arrangements in a set when the order of the arrangements matters

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: suicide (multiple times from revival), self-harm, blood, unhealthy coping mechanisms, Dream is extremely mentally and emotionally broken

Dream doesn’t remember the last time he saw someone. Maybe Sam was the last person he saw when the creeper hybrid told him that he wasn’t going to see him anymore. Dream frowned, gripping the bread roll in his hand even harder and puncturing through the stale shell with his fingers. He sighed and wanted to smack himself in the face, maybe that would get more sense in him. 

Bread marked the end of the month and the only time he got to eat something other than raw potatoes. This was the second time he had seen the roll tumble from the food dispenser, which meant it had been two months.

Other than the bread, he had no sense of time in there, he never kept track of the clock anyways because there always seemed to be periods of time when he would blank out for hours and hours and come back with no recollection of how long it had been. So the bread was a nice gesture from the Warden even though Dream knew that Sam only did it so he didn’t have to interact with the prisoner at all. 

Dream looked down at the bread curiously, watching as crumbs tumbled down from his hands and onto the obsidian floor.  _ Maybe if I just leave the bread out to get stale, it could get hard enough so I can bash my head in with it.  _ Dream shook his head, sometimes his own mind scared him but it was the only company he had left. He had been daydreaming, funnily enough, lately about different ways to die.

* * *

**27 days into prison**

There was nothing left for him to do, and he would be lying if he said he hadn’t exhausted every activity he could possibly do with the little belongings he had. He already filled out every single page in every single book; sometimes he would curse at himself, saying how stupid he was for not rationing it out. What was even in the books? He didn’t know and honestly wouldn’t be able to if he tried because of how illegible his handwriting was. 

A fun game that Dream played for a while was a paper tossing game, where he would throw a crumpled up piece of paper from one of his books and get it as close to the lava without touching it. It was fun until he realized that he sucked at the game when he went through an entire book. Although he would admit that it was satisfying to see the lava swallow up the paper ball, never to be seen again.

If it was so satisfying to watch, how fun would it be to throw himself into the lava? He tried once and never even got to take a full step in before violently pulling himself out from the molten lava after a couple of seconds. A couple of seconds too long. Everything hurt and he was severely burned on the entire right side of his body, unable to move much without screaming from how excruciating the pain was. He was laying flat on his back and he didn’t even have enough strength to lift his head and assess the damage he had done to his own body.

Dream wanted to die then, wanted to reset everything with a brand new body, but if he couldn’t even take one step into the lava how could he have the guts to finish the job? He barely remembered passing out from the agonizing pain when he tried to get up and at least get to the cauldron and treat his burns. 

He woke up in a pool of water, a deep feeling in his gut he couldn’t quite describe.  _ That  _ was the last time he saw Sam, the lava had retracted and Dream was overjoyed to see the full netherite clad warden. Dream scrambled out of the pool of water, almost slipping on the slick floors of the obsidian from how fast he was moving.  _ Sam! Sam!  _ He could see the creeper hybrid moving closer and closer on a moving platform across the lava, Dream thought it was the coolest thing he’d ever seen in all his time spent in the prison. 

Dream happily crawled over to the man, only to be met with the sharp end of a netherite sword. His gaze traveled up to meet Sam’s eyes, well, the eyeholes of the green mask he wore.

“What’s going on, Dream?”

Dream looked back at the man, confused. “What do you mean?”

“You died, Dream! You starved to death and I have to check and see if you’ve done anything stupid. And…” Sam looked past Dream, eyes landing on a small pile of uneaten, raw potatoes. “It looks just fine and you’re just being an idiot, like always.”

“Hey!”

“Don’t ‘hey’ me! You brought this upon yourself.”

“I-”

“Well, if you don’t have anything meaningful to say then I’m going to leave after I do this.” 

Dream didn’t know what “this” meant until he saw Sam pull out a security camera from his inventory, walk over to the back of the cell and mount the device on the glowstone in the corner. Sam fiddled with it for a bit before back up and turning around to leave the cell.

“Wait, Sa-”

“And if you try to mess with it,” Sam warned, cutting him off. “If you even do so much as  _ touching  _ it...I will take everything from your cell and make you  _ watch  _ as I throw them into the lava.”

“Sam…”

“Got it?”  
“Yes.”

* * *

**59 days into prison**

Dream decided to leave the loaf of bread laying against the obsidian wall, he would’ve put it into the chest where his books used to be, but didn’t want mold to grow. The chest is where he kept his valuables, his porcelain white mask rested on the bottom of the chest along with the only book he would never write on. Inside that book were the names of everyone on the SMP, he would’ve called them his friends some time ago. When would that be? He didn’t know. What even was friendship?

Dream paused, biting his lip harshly. Friendship was something he didn’t have, all he had now was...his own thoughts, rotten potatoes, scribbled out books, a cauldron and lava. The lava was a wonderful friend, it looked warm and inviting. 

And his clock, how could he forget about his clock? Dream stared at it lovingly on the wall; there was a time where he used to flip the clock around and look at the shiny, golden backside. It reminded him of the sun, sometimes it felt like the closest thing to the outside world other than water. He liked going to bed with his clock hanging close enough to him so that it would be one of the first things he could see when he woke up, just as he would be woken up by the warm rays of the sun.

In the back of his mind, Dream always knew that he was going crazy, but this was the most amount of entertainment he would ever get until the day he died.  _ I’m here forever.  _ Dream’s breath shuddered as he put his hands on his head in an attempt to shield him from whatever evils that lay nearby. He was that evil, his own worst enemy.

And that evil scared him, he wanted to run away and disappear. He wanted to die.  _ Is that too much to ask for? _

* * *

**190 days into prison**

“How do you think he’s doing?”

“Probably feeling like shit, what else did you think, Sapnap?”

“Jeez Tommy, just trying to make small talk.”

The group was silent as they made their way to the prison that the tyrant, their former friend lay in. They had all come to the conclusion that Dream was in Pandora’s Vault long enough so that he could be reformed. They hoped he was reformed, they hoped he was a changed man that could see his faults and apologize. 

But none of them had any clue, it had been more than half a year since Dream was thrown into prison and no one visited him since. The only ones that did were Tommy, Bad and Ranboo, but that was in the first two weeks of his imprisonment, miniscule compared to the time he had spent in there now.

Everyone on the server was in the group, or almost everyone, many people had retired far away or didn’t have a strong enough relationship with the tyrant that they would be bothered to go. Phil, Techno and Ranboo resided in their cabin, retired from involving themselves with anything that could potentially start more conflict, the visit to Dream was one of them. 

It was Puffy’s idea in the first place anyways to actually set out a plan and gather people to visit Dream, she felt bad for him and there was a small part of her that would even call him her son.

If it wasn’t for Puffy, everyone would’ve just left Dream to rot in the prison either because they couldn’t be bothered or because the burden of guilt was too heavy on their shoulders. Dream had done terrible things, but so had every one of them at some point. And although those things may have not been nearly as bad, Dream still didn’t deserve to be left in an isolated cell any longer. 

Sam sighed as he looked at the crowd of people in front of him in the lobby of the prison. He knew they would be coming but didn’t expect the sheer number of people they brought. The creeper hybrid scanned the group from beneath his mask, he noted down that George, Sapnap, Bad, Ant, Punz, Tommy, Tubbo, Quackity, Fundy, Eret, Karl and Puffy, who was staring directly at him with a gaze he couldn’t interpret.

“Well, screw the waivers.” Sam threw his hands up. “I’m not going to have every single one of you read and sign them. Keep your stuff too, it’ll take too long to have them all in lockers. I—we aren’t even sure if he’ll stay in here or not.” There was a sigh of relief that echoed through the room, it seemed that no one wanted to go through the long and tedious process. The miner’s fatigue that hit them when they first entered was good enough.

There were a few gasps of amazement when they saw the mechanisms for the vault, some of them had never stepped foot in here and it made Sam smile. Happiness or excitement was nowhere to be found in the prison, and if Sam was honest, he didn’t guard the prison almost at all anymore.

Everything had been upgraded to be automated and that gave Sam a lot more time to work on other projects. If anything, going to the prison had become a side-hobby, almost a chore. He didn’t like being in there, the air was too heavy with guilt because he knew Dream, he used to be his friend, a business partner. But it was all thrown away.

What motivated people the most was curiosity and none of them could deny it, no one knew how Dream was doing. Even Sam admitted that he hadn’t checked in on him in a while because there weren't any disturbances being detected. 

“How long is this lava going to take?”

“Relax, when you see the amount of lava you’ll understand why it took a while.”

“How are we all going to get across there? Sam?” Bad asked, remembering the time he had visited, many months ago. 

“I made a bridge,” Sam huffed. “If I’m honest, I hated going across that tiny, moving platform. It sucked if you fell off.” Only Tommy and Bad knew what Sam was talking about until the sound of a platform extending was heard. They all turned towards the sound.

The lava had cleared, there was a clear path to the main cell where they could all see a figure, huddled in the corner. Just seeing that image so far was enough to send shivers down some of their spines.

“Stay behind me,” Sam ordered as he led the group over the bridge and into the cell. There were still bars in place between them and the prisoner, they always came up when the bridge was extended to prevent any escapes.

“Oh,” Someone gasped and some of the others did too. Dream was sitting in the back corner of his cell, hunched over a chest and mumbling something.

“Dream?” George’s voice was hesitant as they approached the blonde, his hair long and unkempt and his orange jumper stained with blood. 

“Not now, I’m trying to think.” They almost all jumped, Dream’s voice was no longer the same, it was the voice of a broken man. 

“Dre-” Tommy started.

“I said I’m trying to  _ think _ ,” Dream snapped as he turned his head to the side sharply to see a group of people in his cell. He stared at them with dull, green eyes, slowly blinking. Dream shook his head, which was starting to hurt. He felt like he was supposed to know who these people were, they looked familiar and their names were on the tip of his tongue. But he couldn’t get it out. 

Now that they were all closer, they could finally see how  _ bad  _ the situation was. Maybe they noticed earlier but just didn’t want to accept the fact that the cell was coated with blood. Sapnap stepped forward.

“What’re you...doing buddy?” Sapnap’s voice was quiet, from both nerves and not wanting to frighten or set anything off in Dream.

“I’m planning,” Dream deadpanned. “You guys are being weird, you should  _ know  _ this stuff.”

“What?” Dream didn’t look back at him, his eyes too trained on whatever he was looking on the chest. “Dream, we don’t know these things, we haven’t visited you in...forever. Do you...do you think we’re hallucinations?”

“Yes!” Dream pumped his fist in the air, triumphant over something unbeknownst to them and ignoring Sapnap’s question. He stood up, causing everyone to take a step backwards, watching as he grabbed the bloody quill that was resting on the lectern. Everyone was confused until he extended his arm out, raising his other arm and positioning the quill to strike the pale, smooth skin of his wrist.

“Oh nonono.” Sapnap darted forward, grabbing Dream’s wrist before he could stab the quill into his flesh. 

“NO!” Dream’s voice was distraught and he tried to grab the quill and cried out when Sapnap tossed the object outside of the cell where it fell into the lava. “No!” He sobbed as he grabbed Sapnap’s shirt with clenched fists.

“What the fuck?”

“Language, Tommy.”

“Really, Bad?”

“Guys, shut up.” Puffy pushed through everyone and approached the two, Sapnap turned his head to look at her whilst Dream was too busy pulling at the black-haired boy’s shirt. “Dream, what was that? What were you planning to do?”

“You’re not supposed to do that, you never interfere! What’s happening-”

“DREAM!” The blonde flinched when Sapnap raised his voice. He took both of his hands to grab Dream’s hands, one in each hand as he intertwined their fingers. Dream was just frozen, the foreign feeling of touch, of feeling someone so close felt too good to be true.

“We’re real,  _ I’m  _ real. Look, I’m holding your hands—I’m  _ here. _ ”

“Oh god,” Dream whispered, squeezing Sapnap’s hands and feeling them squeeze back. “You’re actually here. I-” He cut himself off as he buried his face into Sapnap’s chest. Puffy took this opportunity to rest her hand on the shaking boy’s back, rubbing his back gently and feeling him relax a bit.

“I can’t do this anymore.” Dream’s voice was muffled as he pushed his face even more against Sapnap. “They’re just getting harder and harder to do and sometimes I can barely pull them off.”

“What is?” Puffy was scared to ask.

“The different ways to die,” Dream croaked and everyone stiffened. “Each day, I make it my goal to find another way to die, I can’t repeat any of them.” A couple people in the group checked their communicators and saw that they had Dream muted, they had muted him a long time ago because the death messages became persistent. When they unmuted him, over a hundred death messages appeared and it was sickening.

“I ran out of ways to die quickly,” Dream continued. “So I had to use different combinations to differentiate them. One day I could stab myself and then jump into lava, another I could get ink poisoning and then finish it off with lava. Anything that was just a little bit different counted, it didn’t matter if I bashed my head against something, what I bashed it against is what mattered, what made it different. It’s pretty funny actually, there was a point in time where I thought stale bread could be hard enough to split my skull open, and uh. I couldn’t, it just made me look like an idiot ha ha ha.” Anyone could tell that he was forcing himself to laugh.

Dream was trying to make things into a joke, laugh them off and move on but the rest of them couldn’t. They focused on what he had said earlier, why there was so much blood splattered in the room, especially against the corners of the lecturn or chest, the rim of the cauldron. Now that they looked at it closer, they could notice that everything had been tainted with death and blood, even shards of Dream’s mask were stained with blood as they lay on the floor haphazardly. The only thing that remained untouched was the clock, which was hanging on the wall in pristine condition. 

They were about to question Dream about his clock until he suddenly ripped himself away from Sapnap’s grip, startling both him and Puffy. “Look at what I’ve done so far!” He took them over to the corner of the cell, where his lectern and chest lay, the rest of the group followed not too far behind. “Look.” Dream ran his hand over the words that had been engraved into the wood of the lectern, it was full, its entire surface was littered with different death combinations. 

“I ran out of space.” Dream’s voice took their attention away from the lectern to where he lay his hand now, caressing the lid of the chest. The wood was in a similar fashion with engraved words but not as covered. “And no, I already ran out of space in my books, I’ve written in all of them a long time ago.” Dream lowered his gaze, he couldn’t meet all the pitiful stares of the people that he used to know, the people who lived in a better world now that he was gone from their lives.

“Today I was going to stab myself with a quill, bash my head against the obsidian and then drown myself in the water hole. I haven’t done that one before and I had to calculate things before I went through with it.” Some people in the group picked up on what the three different options meant, it meant that Dream had already exhausted all the combinations where it only took two different options. Fundy felt sick to his stomach, the urge to throw up was beginning to rise but he forced it back down.

“Calculate?” Tubbo piped up.

“Yeah, calculate. I need to calculate how much to do of one option so I can still do the next one. It’s been really difficult to do with three different options now,” Dream said nonchalantly, looking back at them with a pained smile on his face. “But I’m a genius, right? This is doable, I can do this. I-...I can do this. It doesn’t hurt anymore—it shouldn’t hurt anymore. I’m not hurti-” He couldn’t even finish his sentence before tears started running down his face and sobs began to rack throughout his body.

“C’mere.” Puffy had her arms outstretched and Dream wasted no time in throwing himself into them, letting Puffy embrace his frail and shivering body. 

“It hurts,” Dream cried and Puffy held him even closer to her body. “It hurts so much. I don’t want to do this anymore.” More people stepped forward, approaching the embracing figures and wrapping their own arms around to create a group hug. Some people stayed behind, but that was because they had no idea what to do, they were in shock and overwhelmed with guilt from how bad they let the situation get to.

Multiple tears were falling and splattering on the obsidian floor below as some of the people cried with—no, cried  _ for  _ the broken man.They weren’t with him in his months of torture, they just left him in a cell to rot, never even checking to see if he was improving, if he was trying to correct the wrongs he had done. They couldn’t share the same anguish Dream had, they didn’t have to sit for half a year in a cell where the closest human interaction would be through a security camera. Sometimes just seeing that camera’s red lights flashing let Dream know that someone was at least there, that he wasn’t alone. But Sam always left it on after he began to automate everything in the prison, he wasn’t there behind the camera, Dream really  _ was  _ alone. 

Sam cursed at himself, hating himself for never checking up on Dream after he set up the automatic system; there were no security breaches so he told himself he had no reason to guard the prison or keep an eye on the prisoner. How did he not see that Dream was suffering, for months even? It was his fault and he shifted his green mask downwards, covering the fact that he was crying as he gripped the handle of his sword even harder. 

“I-” Everyone was quiet, listening to Dream’s soft yet strained voice. “I give up. I...I don’t want to do anything anymore. I just want to finally sleep and then never wake up. Please. Please just kill me.”

_ Please. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sapnap knew Dream the best and for the longest. There was also a time in canon if he asked if Dream missed him, he sounded more sad that he lost a friend rather than just being thrown away by some asshole.
> 
> I like the "Puffy is Dream's maternal figure" headcanon, it's slightly included in this story but not fully because I still wanted to include Sapnap's character. This is why he doesn't address her as his Mom.
> 
> And of course there were a ton of different combinations for his deaths, but some wouldn't make sense at all if their order isn't realistic. Like, lava and drowning is an end all, they can only be done at the end of a sequence (if they are used) because he can't exactly measure an almost instant death. He would pass out from drowning as well.  
> Also he still has a bunch of quills because each book came equipped with one so he just stored it away.  
> The clock is untouched because he needs to use it in order to know if a day has passed or not.


	3. Immortal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dream likes to play games, he loves to act out stories and trap everyone in the elaborate webs of stories he creates. Because it's fun, right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: none
> 
> \---
> 
> Basically, Dream is immortal but he's kind of an ass about it. Not really angst and it focuses more on the AU.

Sometimes Dream forgets that this is all an act, a performance by no one other than him. He’s the director, the narrative of his own show and he prides himself in it. His ability to weave these intricate stories around the people he surrounded himself with is something that he indulges in every second, every year, every century and from the beginning of time.

Dream is immortal, it’s a secret that he had never told anyone on the server, because why would he? He really didn’t give a fuck about the server if he was honest, it was just a blip in his never-ending timeline, insignificant. He really meant it when he said that he didn’t care about anything on the server and that he had no attachments. Why would he get attached to something that would eventually perish? It was a waste of time.

“I’m sorry Dream. You should have paid me more.” Dream’s thoughts were interrupted by a familiar voice, Punz. He turned around to glare at the man who had just emerged from the nether portal. Dream scowled at the sight of the blonde mercenary, choosing to ignore him in favor of raising his arm to draw his axe back, ready to strike at the small brunette below him.

He was ready to swing his axe down to end the boy’s life under him, he reveled in the way Tubbo shook in fear as he saw his life flash before his eyes. A sudden, sharp pain exploded in his right arm, near his wrist. He dropped his axe with a yelp, looking at the source of the pain to see an arrow sticking deep into his flesh. A quick glance to the side and he could see Sapnap holding an unloaded crossbow, pointing it straight at him.

Even though he was a god, Dream still could feel pain, but he had gotten rather used to it. To him, pain only felt like a small tingle that would sometimes give him a boost of euphoria. It felt nice to feel something for once in his numb body.

As he stared at the object almost impaling through his wrist, he could see Tubbo scamper away in the corner of his eye. The brunette ran into the crowd, hiding behind Tommy who also chose to seek refuge in. He laughs as he looks at it now, the narrative he had written had gone exactly as he planned; everyone would side with the heroes and defeat him, the villain.

No one could see him smile when he threw his items in a hole so Tommy could claim them. No one could see him smile as his “lives” were taken away by the hands of a child. No one could see him smile as they all watched him ascend in the elevator, hands bound behind his back. No one saw his smile as the lava slowly flowed down, trapping him in the cell of his own prison that he had commissioned. 

_ This is fun. _

* * *

Dream only managed to stay in that damned prison for a month now. No one visited him anymore, not when he would only laugh and tease at the visitors. That was his only source of fun left, and now it was gone. That was then he realized that no one would ever visit him again after his antics. 

So now the box of obsidian he was imprisoned in was boring and he would just lay there idly, tossing his clock in the air and catching it. He wasn’t allowed many other objects to play with, only having the ones provided in the cell and he decided to not sacrifice his mask for the sake of satiating his boredom.

“Fuck this,” Dream muttered, no longer in the mood to catch his clock anymore so he threw it against the wall, shattering the object into pieces and shard of glass. He stood up and dusted himself off. A quick adjustment to his mask so it framed his face more and he was ready to go.

Dream was done pretending to be a mortal being trapped in a prison, it bored him to no end, especially when the people decided to stop visiting him. He summoned the server commands with a flick of his hand, quickly putting himself into “spectator” mode. The deity had no trouble in phasing through the walls of the securely built prison and continued to fly upwards until he was completely out. Only then he returned to his true creative mode, abandoning the survival mode guise he had for so long.

It had been a while since he had seen the outside world, it was the middle of the day and the prison was just beneath him as he floated in the air. Dream winced, the sudden change of brightness made him squint his eyes as he quickly set the time to midnight.

The skies of the server suddenly turned black, splashes of white stars painting it. Dream sighed, it was nice to finally be able to move around freely and he had no hesitation in cheering as he did small twirls in the air.

It was only when a loud ringing noise had erupted from the prison, that his celebration momentarily came to a stop. The spam of warnings that the “prisoner has escaped” also ruined the moment when it popped up in his communications.

He watched as the guards of Pandora’s Vault hurried to convene at where Sam was. It was like watching a bunch of chickens with their heads cut off, running around in panic. Dream floated down lower in order to get a better view of the group of people that had met up in front of the prison entrance.

“Where the hell could he have gone?”

“I don’t know, Sapnap! I was just going to check on him until I noticed that he wasn’t even in his cell anymore.”

“Isn’t your prison supposed to be, like...the more secure structure ever?”

“Oh shut up Punz! You know that it’s impossible for Dream—for anyone to escape my prison.”

“Well then, why are we here?”

“I-” Sam looked down at his feet defeatedly. “I have no idea how the hell he could’ve escaped, there was nothing broken in his cell! There wasn’t a single trace of him left in that damn thing.”

“Maybe he died?” Bad quietly proposed. The three guards and the warden were silent after that statement as they took time to process it.

“I m-mean,” Sapnap stammered. “That could be why.”

“An-”

A bout of familiar, wheezing laughter interrupted the creeper hybrid and startled the rest of the group. Their heads all snapped upwards to the source of the laughter, jaws dropping as they saw Dream, floating in the air and doubled over from how hard he was laughing.

“What the fuck,” Punz muttered and even Bad was in too much shock to lecture the blonde mercenary’s language.

“How...wha-” Sapnap rubbed his eyes, trying to see if he was just seeing things but to no avail.

“Dream,” Sam started. “Are you...are you a ghost?” The question caused Dream to laugh even harder, the only sounds escaping from his mouth were wheezes and he could barely breathe.

“Why the fuck are you laughing!?” Although he tried to sound tough, Sapnap’s voice was still laced with fear, confusion and anger.

“Because-” Dream lifted his mask slightly to wipe away a tear from his eye from how hard he laughed. “Because you guys think I’m  _ dead _ !”

The four mortals exchanged confused gazes with each other, having no clue what Dream was talking about. Their confusion gave time for Dream to catch his breath and his laughter had reduced down to small chuckles every now and then.

“What do you mean by that, Dream?”

“Silly silly Sam, I thought you were ‘cracked at the craft.’ Right? You know about this world, you know about the End, commands,  _ admins _ .” 

“No…no way. I fucking knew it, you  _ are  _ an admin.”

“Admin?” Sam was about to answer but Dream did it for him.

“I’m basically a god,” Dream answered smugly. He reached behind his head to unclasp the mask from his face, hearing the others gasp as the porcelain disk fell and dissipated into shimmering lines of code before hitting the ground. Not only that was shocking, but so was his eyes, gleaming with golden ichor.

“So that’s why you always had your mask on,” Bad murmured. “But why? Why, Dream? Why did you hide this from us?”

“Awww, does little Badboyhalo feel betrayed?”

“Yes!”

“But what purpose would it serve if you did know?” Bad stared at him quizzically. “Would you abuse my admin powers? Would you treat me any differently than you do now?” The black demon was speechless, trying to find the right words to respond but couldn’t.

“Of course we wouldn’t treat you differently, because you’re our goddamn friend.” Sapnap let out a sigh. “It’s just...it would be a nice thing to tell us considering you’re literally immortal and we’re not. You’ll outlive all of us and-”

“You don’t think I know that already?” Dream’s voice dripped with bitterness. “You don’t think I’ve had to sit here through eternity and watch as every single one of my friends die? No one is spared, everyone dies and I can’t do anything to stop it. I called myself a god, but I can’t do everything, I don’t get to dictate life and death. Dream SMP isn’t the first server I’ve been a part of, to me, you’re not  _ special _ .”

So yeah, remember when I said that I didn’t have any attachments on this server? Well, I wasn’t lying when I said that, I really mean it. Why get attached to something that’s just going to die and I’ll eventually forget about in a century?”

“Attachments...yes, we’re gonna die but then that means you should spend as much time as you can with us! Just because we aren’t going to last forever doesn’t mean that you can’t have fun with the time you have with us,” Sapnap argued with the others nodding behind him, agreeing.

“Oh, don’t worry.” Dream smiled. “I  _ am  _ having fun with this. I get to play out these elaborate stories, I could be the villain for this story but the next I could be the hero! But I must say, this story might’ve been one of my favorites, so...thank you.” Four pairs of eyes stared at him blankly, the only hints of emotion in them were just disbelief.

“But this is where my story ends, you guys managed to lock up the big bad villain in a basically inescapable prison if I wasn’t an admin. It was a good run, but my time with you all is over. Thanks for all the fun times we had together, even if everything in the end was fake, a lie. I’m sorry…

Goodbye.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It was going to be angsty, but I thought that asshole Dream would make more sense because he's lived for eons and he's used to this.


End file.
